


breathe, my love. it's only me.

by ghoststoriesandothershit (orphan_account)



Category: Love Nikki Dress Up Queen
Genre: F/F, Gay, Implied homophobia, fashion - Freeform, idk yall, implied misogyny, kimi centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:37:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ghoststoriesandothershit
Summary: Being the heiress to a huge company with an entire nation relying on you comes with a lot of stress. Kimi is feeling the pressure, and thinking of Nikki is one of the only things getting her through (along with Joe's excellent barista skills and endless support.)





	breathe, my love. it's only me.

**Author's Note:**

> (SPOILERS ONLY WITHIN THIS SECTION SKIP IT IF YOURE NOT UP TO CH 15 AND JUST IMAGINE YOUR OWN SETTING)
> 
>  
> 
> i imagine this taking place in a universe where lunar *nearly* died, but didn't, and the war is on the verge of breaking out but hasnt begun yet. So high tensions but everyones still okay haha what who died who's in trouble?

The heiress to Apple Federation Apparel sits in her courtyard sipping tea. It’s a rare moment of peace in her normally busy day, and Kimi is taking her time to appreciate it. The air is cool on her skin, and she sets her cup down to lift an emergency cardigan from her purse- light and elegant, but made of warm cashmere.   
Even though she’s alone, Kimi keeps her movements very controlled, elegantly extending her arm to pull on the cardigan, never rushed or flustered. She’s been in the public eye for so long that it even follows her here, in the privacy of her own home. Someone could come bursting in at any moment, with urgent news, or designs to be updated, or a letter from Nikki. She loves Joe, of course, but it does feel like he’s always summoning her every few minutes.   
The lady picks up her tea again, pauses, and allows her shoulders to relax. Things have been stressful lately, more than usual, and it’s at times like this she wishes her father would guide her a little more. Of course, she appreciates that his help allowed her to grow strong, that it has made her capable, but…. She’s only eighteen. She can’t help but be envious when she sees Nikki and Bobo chattering away excitedly, their travelling decided by fate, not a strict schedule of duties. She watches Bobo giggle and dance around and fight so immaturely with that cat- all things that are utterly informal and crude, and something in her twinges a little. Kimi doesn’t quite remember what it’s like to laugh like Nikki does.   
Still, how many of the most famous designers are women? Her accomplishments should be a place of pride, not stress.

“My lady?” Joe’s voice is accompanied by the sound of rapping at the door.

Kimi almost jumps, but instead quickly adjusts her shoulders and takes a casual sip of tea. “Yes, Joe?”

Joe pushes open the glass door to the courtyard, stepping through and hovering there for a moment. He seems apologetic. “Orlando has sent a telegram through- he’s asking if we could provide him with some new designs, quickly. There’s a ball in Lilith coming up and he would appreciate your modern take on a Lilith dress.”

Kimi sets her cup down and stands, turning around with a curt nod. “Very well. Thank you, Joe.” He bows in response, overly formal, and Kimi feels fondness warming her chest. How long has she known Joe? Since she was a child, and still he treats her like she’s important, like she’s someone special. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy it- it never makes her feel like their relationship is too strictly related to work, simply that it’s as carefully controlled as anything else in her life. It would be inappropriate for them to be any closer, but even with the coolness of a professional relationship spilling into their everyday interactions, Kimi knows that Joe is the most important person in her life. “What sort of style are we considering?”

“Elegance, most certainly. He described it as something that appears deceptively simple until you look closer, but still something that will stand out in a crowd.”

“Plenty of lace, then,” Kimi mumbles, pressing a finger to her lips in thought. Lace is such a bother to work with- it will involve several separate designs on its own, and always takes a while to create. “Alright. Did he provide us with a schedule for the ball?”

“Ah.” Joe appears to hesitate for a moment, then bows his head. “This weekend, my lady.”

“What?” Kimi rises from her seat, her eyes wide. Immediately, she corrects herself, pausing for a moment to catch her breath, before she sighs. Nikki was to be arriving in Lilith herself on Friday, to meet with Prince Royce, and Kimi had…. Well, she had hoped to be able to meet her friend there and show her support. She knows the last month has been hard on Nikki- and she wasn’t there for any of it. She hasn’t seen her since the Styling Contest in Lilith, and it feels like an eon ago.   
But Kimi is an heiress, and she has duties.  
“Very well,” she nods, lifting her chin. “Tell him I will have the design finished by then. And…. perhaps I will deliver it to him in person. Do you think we could obtain some invitations to the ball?” It’s pushy, but she is important. Prince Royce will probably invite Nikki, too.

Joe nods, looking at her with concern in his eyes. “Of course. But, my lady- What are you going to wear?”

Kimi tosses her hair back airily, already exiting the courtyard and heading over to her desk, Joe trailing behind her. “I shall create something for myself while I’m working on Orlando’s dress. Something gothic, perhaps. More fairytale themed than lolita.” She can hear the sound of Joe’s shoes tapping across the smooth floor pause as he hesitates behind her, but she doesn’t look back. She has about three days to get these done. Time is of the essence.

\--

It’s the second day of Kimi working on these designs, and she’s already finished the dress for Orlando’s model- or spy, or whatever it is. He sent her a letter and she studied it, but at the moment her mind is too filled with lace and white and frosty pinks for her to remember the exact political position of the girl wearing this dress. She’s throwing in an elegant wig as well, and she has a matching pair of shoes for it in the works. Currently she’s on her sixth pencil sketch of her own outfit, not counting all the ones she started and immediately threw out. The woman makes a small note on the collar of the dress, brow furrowed in concentration, then sits up and rifles through the pile of embroidery next to her, pulling out a suitable stitch for the hem of the neckline. She’s busy scribbling down the name of the design when her musings are interrupted by a knock on the door to her workroom. Fighting away her instinct to sigh dramatically, she removes the pins from her mouth and calls out over her shoulder. “Come in, Joe.”  
Joe closes the door behind him and walks over to her, a tea set balanced delicately in his arms. Kimi blinks up at him for a moment before she fully processes it, then sweeps the embroidery off the table, wincing as it falls to the floor. She doesn’t like mess, but she does like caffeine. “Joe, thank you. That’s very kind.”

“My pleasure,” he murmurs, setting the tray down on the now empty spot on her desk, then bends over to pick up the embroidery, carefully placing them back in the box at Kimi’s side. She murmurs her thanks as she picks up the tea and sips it, then reaches over for one of the cookies. God, it feels like she hasn’t eaten in forever. Joe stands back up and looks around the room, letting out a noise of surprise when he gets a good look at the mannequin in the center of the room, with its full but delicate skirt and its half-finished wig. “You never fail to impress me,” he says, and the genuine smile in his voice makes Kimi turn her chair from her desk and smile back, pride filling up in her chest. “You finished this in a day?”

“A day and a half,” she says modestly, brushing her hair back. They don’t call her a prodigy for nothing, and it’s moments like these, where someone speaks to her and there is genuine admiration for her work, when they look at it like they’re appreciating it for the art that it is and not an object to be used for political gain, that she remembers why she loves designing. She thinks it’s one of the reasons she likes Nikki so much- Nikki looks at everything with bright eyes, beats Kimi in battles with such grace, and whenever she wears one of Kimi’s designs she always finds a way to compliment what Kimi is proudest of. Just thinking of her is motivation enough for Kimi to want to get back to work, to meet up with her, and with Bobo, who she’s never been particularly close to, and take them both by the hands and tell them how sorry she is. Still, Joe is looking over her design, and Orlando’s dress is more important. Kimi bites her lip. “Do you notice anything that could use a touch-up?”

Joe makes a circle around the mannequin, gently lifting a layer of the skirt. Most Lilith skirts feature petticoats, usually with a stiff band or layers of heavy cotton to give the skirts their curvy figure. Kimi decided to avoid this, instead building up layers upon layers of thin silk, cut at slightly different lengths to give the skirt a jagged frill of tulle. Each layer of silk is a different shade of peach, some deep pink and others pale yellow, all blending together and giving it a gentle design of faded fruit. It smells of peach, too, thanks to some gorgeous perfume she picked up from Cloud a few months ago. Joe smooths a hand down the velvet of the bodice, the texture of a real peach, then steps back and gives the mannequin a gentle twirl, watching the dress ruffle like feathers as it spins, never lifting high enough to be immodest. Watching it in motion, after having ignored it for the past hour, Kimi feels another swell of pride in her chest. She did a good job with this one.   
“It’s beautiful,” Joe says, turning from it to look back at her, his eyes fond. “I would perhaps…. Some peach blossom, maybe. A small spray of flowers near the hip, or maybe near the left shoulder- unless you’re adding straps?”

Kimi shakes her head, lifting the cup of tea again. “No, strapless. She’s getting gloves though, I think…. I’m just not sure what color.”

Joe looks over it critically. “Light gold,” he decides. “Maybe the blossoms there. Are you making shoes?”

“I’ve already passed my designs over to our cobbler,” Kimi says, perhaps a little smugly. “Tall boots.” She does love boots. “They’ll add a little variety to the design- same color scheme, of course, and they’re tied with pink ribbons, but they make it a little more cute.”

Joe smiles, walking over to pull a chair out next to her desk. “I shouldn’t have doubted you,” he says, reaching over to take one of her biscuits. Kimi graciously ignores it.

“Of course not, but I’m willing to forgive you for the slight,” she says, smiling over at him fondly. “I just hope it fits the model- It’s so hard to get accurate sizing without measuring her myself.” A photo and measurements had arrived at about midnight a few days ago. The model is pretty- nothing compared to Nikki, of course, but she’s got a sweet face and a few beauty spots on her shoulders, which is what inspired Kimi to keep them bare. Her brow furrows as she remembers an unpleasant interaction with the man who delivered her photo. He had remarked that it was a pity the model had such imperfections, and Kimi had to stop herself from ordering him to be fired. She can’t go stirring up any discourse at the moment, not now, not when everyone seems to be waiting for her to slip up, to make a mistake.   
Maybe it’s because of her…. Tendencies, but Kimi never sees flaws in her models. It might seem overdramatic, but the girls in Miraland are just. Just magical. She thinks herself lucky that she lives in Apple, where she can see women with cropped hair and loose pants, where there isn’t such pressure to lighten your skin like in Cloud, where they aren’t forced to be as effeminate as in Lilith. Kimi loves clothes, loves dressing up and being around them and using them to shape the image of herself, but there is just something so- so likable about people who refuse to get involved with the magic. Her father says they turn to simpler things, but really, Kimi thinks that farming and cooking is just as complicated as design. She imagines herself as a farmer, sometimes. She can’t really see it, doesn’t think it would suit her, but sometimes when she takes her makeup off she looks at herself in the mirror and imagines she was wearing a sunhat, that she didn’t have to scrub away at her acne and monitor her diet so her skin doesn’t flare, that maybe there was a little more colour in her cheeks. She imagines herself in dungarees that she would never wear even for a styling battle. Sometimes, when she’s feeling very small and like the whole world is surrounded by organizations one step ahead of her, she imagines she’s working in the fields, and her back hurts because she was bent over gardening, not drawing and drawing and drawing until the skin around her pencil has been worn thin. And if she’s on the verge of crying and ruining her under eyes, she will sometimes-  
Sometimes she will imagine she comes home to a small farmhouse and there’s a girl there with pink hair and Kimi designs a dress for her, not because she has to but because she wants to, something white and creamy and pink that will keep her cool in the sun and will clean easily when she eats berries with their juice dripping from her fingers.

Joe stands up, snapping Kimi out of her musings. She feels oddly emotional. It must be the weariness. “I have full faith it will look wonderful on her- if it doesn’t fit, the blame will likely lay on her rather than the designer,” he says soothingly. 

It’s not as soothing as it might otherwise be, and Kimi feels somewhat frustrated, so she just nods stiffly and waves him away. She can’t quite phrase what she needs, and ends up stuttering something of “Go- I have work. I feel- leave me alone.” Joe, quiet, dependable Joe, just nods and heads towards the door. He pauses there a moment and Kimi curls her hands into fists, stopping herself from barking at him. He’s under just as much pressure as her. It’s not his fault.


End file.
